Method to Madness
by Mathemary
Summary: Frida Silvar is a twenty year old inhabitant of the Ark. With a dead mother and an absent father, she accumulates shifts as a culinary tech and other various small jobs to make a living. That is, until one particularly sticky situation forces her to jump ship.
1. Head in the clouds, gravity centered

**A/N: This is my first story, so please give me feedback by reviewing! For those who wonder, I cast Maisie Richardson-Sellers as Frida. I'll try to update as frequently as possible, but be patient, I have a ton of exams to prepare for. Hope you'll like this first chapter!**

 **This chapter covers 'Pilot' (I'll announce the episodes covered in each chapter for people who want to avoid spoilers).**

 **Also I'll try to keep this as close to the show's plot as possible, but the fact that I randomly added a new character (with her own background and personality), is bound to change certain things.**

* * *

Stars sparkled in Frida's eyes as she observed the earth from the Ark's window. She wondered what it would feel like down there. From what she gathered in her classes, a lot of the earth's surface was covered with a short plant called grass. Frida closed her eyes and concentrated on her toes. If she put all her energy into it, she could almost convince herself that her sock's loose threads were blades of grass under her feet.

Lost in her reverie, she didn't hear the guards until they had already rounded the corner.

 _Shit_ , she thought to herself. Swiftly, she hid her illegal parcel in her vest's inside pocket. Bracing herself, Frida turned around and started heading towards the kitchen, a determined frown etched on her face. Maybe if she looked like she had to get somewhere, they wouldn't stop her.

As she neared the hallway, one step of footsteps slowed down. Her eyes lifting from the floor, Frida recognized one of the young guards. He must have been in his mid-twenties, and Frida had already seen him patrolling this floor.

He looked ready to scan her, but just as she passed, Frida looked him straight in the eye.

"Got places to be." She winked, and blew him a kiss without changing her course. She couldn't believe her plan had actually worked. He had obviously been about to intercept her, but she had been able to distract him from his task. Quite proud of herself, Frida never the less hastened her pace to the kitchens.

* * *

As soon as she saw Nygel, she made a beeline for her. Making sure no one was in view, she let her parcel drop on the table in front of the older woman.

"Got you job done," she hissed. "Harder now Jasper's gone though."

"You continue to impress me, butterfly," Nygel replied. Butterfly had quickly become Frida's nickname when she started working for her, about three years ago.

"Sit." Nygel's voice commanded, just as Frida was about to leave. Turning back around, she obediently sat down in the chair her boss had offered her.

Nygel wasn't only her boss in what we'll call 'legal affairs' – culinary tech – but also in her 'extracurricular activities' – collecting information, delivering doubtful objects to clients, stealing equipment, etc.

"I have a new job for you," Nygel continued, "I owe a friend a favor and, shall we just say, he has got his eyes set on you, butterfly."

Frida's eyes bulged out of her skull, filled with disbelief.

"I know how you feel about this. I've tried to keep you from doing the dirty work, but you're old enough now. You _are_ very skilled at theft, and listening at closed doors, but I think your looks could be put to a better use."

No way was Frida doing this. She was only twenty. And anyways, _was there_ an appropriate age for prostitution? She certainly didn't think so. Wait, was it still prostitution if Nygel wasn't paying her? Because she wasn't. The only reason Nygel's 'little birds' would ever do this was to avoid her selling them out to the council. Frida had seen what her boss was capable of. She had seen what had happened to a girl who had once refused to do a job of this nature. Nygel had information on Frida. Frida had information on Nygel. The difference was, the older woman had contacts, and a talent for twisting words. As a result, she always ended up casting herself as the innocent victim. Her opponents for the most part, ended up getting themselves floated.

Frida continued her contemplation as she walked back to her apartment later in the evening. Her quarters were so small she barely believed they could be called an apartment. There was just enough space for her bed, a table with a single chair, and a rudimentary washroom.

It was all she needed really. She didn't live with anyone, and her life in general didn't contain anyone but herself. She used to have a family, a mother and a father. However family life didn't last long for her. When she was ten, her mother was floated for stealing books from the library. How messed up do the laws have to be up here for literary theft to be punishable by death? This vary apartment had sheltered both her and her father for a small amount of time. That was, until he went to live with his girlfriend, completely abandoning her.

True, maybe Frida was jealous of her father's new life. He had been able to move on from her mother's death. He met someone, and was even able to have a new kid. A second chance had basically been offered to him, and he had seized it without any hesitation.

But where had that left her? Alone. Poor. Lost. A twenty year old girl working shifts at the food distribution center and dwelling in unauthorized business. Sometimes Frida found herself wishing for a better life, but when she did, she quickly gave an end to those useless musings. She had learnt that hoping and praying rarely accomplished anything in and of its' own. Besides, whining was unattractive and grotesque. She was much too proud for it.

* * *

When Frida woke up early next morning, she quickly realized by the noises coming from outside her room that it must be Sunday. For some reason, most people preferred to take their day off on Sunday. It was probably a residue from an old earth tradition.

Frida however, had to get to work. Maneuvering around children playing in the corridors, she tried making her way to the kitchens. A little further down the halls, her task got significantly harder. A mob of people – workers by the look of it – had gathered around a doorway, which was occupied by Officer Callie Cartwig.

Sliding through whichever passages Frida was able to find in the crowd, she couldn't help herself from overhearing the rumors being passed around.

"I saw a ship launch not more than twenty minute ago." A middle aged man was whispering to someone close to him.

"Was it the prisoners? They're just kids!" Another shouted.

"Folks, as I said, at this time, we cannot confirm or deny anything." Officer Cartwig tried appeasing the tension that could be felt rising amongst the crowd.

"Come on, lady!" Someone snapped, just as Frida managed to shimmy her petite figure away from the atroupment.

This smelled very bad for the council. Whether juvenile prisoners had been sent off alone, in a tin can in the middle of space or not, it was bound to raise arguments between the workers and the privileged. For months, people had been strained and harsher laws had been followed through shamelessly. This launch ship glitch would just create another crack in the council's armor.

Frida was able to make the rest of the journey to her post without coming across any other obstacles. The rest of her day on the other hand didn't go quite as smoothly. First she had to clean the kitchen floor, a demeaning task if you asked her. Nygel kept pointedly looking her way throughout the day, as if she was trying to use telepathy to remind Frida of the job she had to do. Frida hadn't forgotten about it. On the contrary, it was constantly in the back of her mind. She was racking her brain, trying to find excuses to get herself out of it. That always seemed to be her plan, appearing overbooked so that no one would bother her.

Around noon, people started filing in to get their daily ration. With them came news of the Chancellor getting shot. Her post at the distribution center gave Frida the advantage of being able to listen in on conversations without much difficulty. From what she had gathered so far, the shooter was a janitor named Bellamy Blake. A hushed discussion between two guards told her he was still to be found.

Relief flooded through Frida as soon as the last ration had been claimed. She hurried out of the door, avoiding Nygel as best as she could. She knew she wouldn't be able to flee her forever, but she could still try.

Instead of going directly to her apartment, Frida decided to take a detour by the wing containing the council's chambers. The former chancellor Diana Sydney had hired her to gather information on the Ark's decision takers.

Frida kept close to the walls as she passed through a corridor lined with doors. By the numbers that figured on each of them, she realized these must be the council member's private quarters.

The farthest door from her made a soft click as it closed. Her interest peeked, Frida tiptoed silently over to it. Leaning her ear against the metal, she tried to make out who the voices belonged to.

"The Chancellor is still in surgery, but we have I. the shooter. Bellamy Blake is the only person on the Ark unaccounted for." Reported a male voice.

"Who is he?" The second voice was very recognizable, and Frida attributed it directly to Marcus Kane.

"We're still working out a profile, but his motive for going to earth is clear."

So it was true, Frida pondered, they had really sent the prisoners to the ground. And this shooter guy had taken the opportunity to jump ship. Way to make an exit, she thought with humor. All the same, it was quite a reckless thing to do. Earth _did_ have the reputation to be soaked to the core in radioactivity. Probably not the best environment to build a new life.

As the conversation on the other side of the door slowed down and the two men made their goodbyes, Frida dashed to another part of the Ark. Strutting to her room, she dragged her mind back to business. Would the information be of any interest to Diana? It probably would. The former Chancellor liked to collect secrets and be aware of more than she really should. Nevertheless, it was getting late. Frida could wait for her next meeting with Diana to relay the information, she decided as she reached her bed. It had been an exhausting day, and her eyes fluttered shut as soon as her dark locks hit the pillow.

* * *

 **Please please please review guys, it would make me extremely happy to know what you think of this so far!**


	2. Anywhere out this place

Tuesday was a day like any other for Frida. This morning, she had gotten dressed, and gone straight to her post. Until noon, she had helped the other culinary techs sort out rations and had made sure everything was in place for the day's distribution.

Frida was all too happy to drop what she was doing when she heard someone walk into the distribution center. Her arms still felt tired from having carried a whole crate of rations to the medical wing by herself, and it was a relief to stop scrubbing at the grimy counter top she had been trying to clean for the past half hour.

She was on her way to go see whoever had come in, but what she heard made her freeze.

"I need a pressure regulator." It was a voice from her past. Raven Reyes. Both girls had been close friends during school, but had fallen out after a violent argument a couple of years ago. Frida had made it a point of honor never to speak to her again.

"What do you want for it?" Raven continued, presumably addressing Nygel. Frida kept out of sight and lent her ear to the conversation.

"I owe a favor to the Chief of Electrical, and he's got a thing for tough, pretty girls like you." Nygel suggested. Frida had to give Nygel props for her effort to get Raven to do her job.

""You're joking right?" Raven stammered. It looked like she was as enthusiast about this perspective as Frida.

"Then I guess you don't need to regulate pressure as badly as you thought you did."

"Go float yourself, Nygel" Raven spat before storming out of the room with Frida's last hope. She was the one that would have to go screw the Chief of Electrical now.

Nygel rounded the corner where Frida had been lurking, shooting her an apologetic look. Nygel should really think twice before making deals that entailed others to prostitution. She couldn't just ask this of every young girl she had an influence on.

* * *

"Attention. The mess hall will be closed tomorrow from 1100 hours to 1200 hours." An automatic voice repeated over the speakers as Frida handed out rations from her booth.

"Hello, Dr. Griffin." Nygel greeted coldly, as the Chief Medical Officer approached the booth next to Frida's. "Morphine, what do you want for it?"

Frida averted her eyes to Dr. Griffin's hand, where she was discretely holding two morphine doses.

"Pressure regulator." She responded.

Was it possible that she was in league with Raven? Frida pondered. Why would a high placed person such as Abby Griffin dwell in Nygel's business? And most importantly, why would they ever need a pressure regulator?

The raspy sound of someone clearing their throat brought Frida out of her thoughts. She handed a mildly annoyed man his ration and got back to work before pissing anyone else off.

Frida tried avoiding Nygel again at the end of her shift, but without much success. The older woman managed to corner her before she got out of the distribution center.

"I'll need you to get a pressure regulator for the Doc, butterfly."

"Shouldn't be too hard" Frida replied, her eyes bright with mischief.

"Don't be so sure of yourself, they've leveled up security recently. I don't want you to get caught." Nygel could rest assured, Frida didn't want to get caught either. Getting caught meant getting floated.

"Oh and butterfly? Make sure you also take care of that other favor I asked for." She added before letting Frida head out.

Of course, not screwing the chief of electrical and disobeying Nygel's orders would also get her floated. She would get the pressure regulator first though. She knew the exact place where she would be able to find one.

* * *

Using the air ducts wasn't an easy business. Even with the advantage of her small size, Frida had trouble squeezing through some of the tighter passages. Once she reached the spot which – according to her calculations – was right over the mecha wing's inventory room, she slipped a small screwdriver out from her pocket. With steady hands, she aligned it to the steel screws surrounding the grid and started twisting. Once all of them had been removed, the grid became easy enough pull away.

Jumping out from the air duct, Frida landed stealthily on her feet. Rows and rows of unnamed machine parts surrounded her. If this spaceship had an extra pressure regulator, it would be here. Gathering her courage, Frida started the long task of looking through each shelf. Fortunately, she knew what she was looking for.

Ten minutes in her search, she came across a strange assemble of knobs and gauges. A pressure regulator. A small coat of rust lingered on some parts of the device, but other than that, it looked in state of function.

 _Good_ , thought Frida. She observed the machine for a while before unscrewing one of its' bolts and sliding it through the chain around her neck.

Frida had learned from Nygel that it was always a good idea to one-up your clients. Especially when they were doing secretive things involving a stolen part and an ex-best friend.

* * *

"How may I help you?" the woman Frida approached in the medical wing asked her.

"Could I please see my doctor, Abby Griffin? It's for a rash I have on my back." She replied, hoping the nurse would let her see Dr. Griffin in private so she could deliver the pressure regulator and get away from the bacteria people were coughing in the air.

"Sure, she's in operation right now, but I'll let her know you're here." She offered as she led Frida to a room on the side.

The nurse turned away and closed the door behind her, leaving Frida alone. Her bag containing the machine part made a clinking noise as she let it drop to the ground.

She barely had time to sit down in the chair when the door opened and Abby Griffin walked in.

"Nygel sent you?" Dr. Griffin asked, her brow raised skeptically.

Instead of replying, Frida hand her the bag. She didn't like people underestimating her. Once Dr. Griffin had looked at the bag's content and seemed satisfied, she held the door for Frida.

"I would advise you to wait it out, and come see me in a week's time if you still have any symptoms." Dr. Griffin said as she made a show of leading Frida out of the medical wing.

She nodded a farewell, dodged a sneezing kid, and headed for the mess hall.

Everything had gone smoothly, but dread seeped through her. Now that Frida had gotten this job over with, she only had one thing left to do before the day came to an end.

* * *

It was around 1800 hours and Frida stood frozen in front of door number 205. Nygel had told her where to go and when to be there. Now all she had to do was knock. It couldn't possibly be that hard. Frida concentrated on her breathing. Inhaling. Exhaling. Her hand lifted to the door, she rapped three times against the hard metal.

The door didn't budge and for a moment Frida had a small sliver of hope that no one would be home, that she could go back to her apartment and forget about this.

Feet shuffled on the other side of the door, and the lock clicked soon after. The door softly swung open, revealing a stocky figure. His mustache twitched, eyes sweeping the girl standing in front of him.

"You're Nygel's girl?" He inquired, although it sounded more like an affirmation.

Frida's vocal chords felt dry, too rusted for any sound to come out. Deciding speaking was too much to ask of herself at this point, she willed her legs to move forward, and took a step towards the man. That seemed to answer his question, for he backtracked across the threshold, motioning for Frida to follow him.

The trip from her position to the inside of the Chief of Electrical's apartment felt like miles. Yet when Frida leaned back against the door and pushed it close, she wished it had lasted just a bit longer.

The contact of a scabby palm against her wrist broke Frida out of her daze. She flinched, but still her gaze did not waver from the faraway point upon which she had kept it locked.

The man's hands pushed past her hips, and sneaked up to the hem of her shirt. His two squirmy lips palpated her soft mouth, and suddenly Frida was very aware of every touch he inflicted on her. Her body recoiled when he stepped even closer.

"Wait", Frida stammered.

"Now now, I've waited long enough." His voice sapped with forced sweetness.

Frida's body was trapped between metal and flesh. She wanted to turn and run out the door, but he was pressed too tightly against her. The wall seemed to close in, pushing her closer to him. His breath stung her neck, and with each inhale he stole more of the oxygen around them. Frida felt febrile currents of air run down her throat, but her lungs needed more. And _she_ needed to get out.

Her hands pushed his chest, silently pleading for an exit. She stopped when he groaned and pressed further. Her arms flailed around her, searching for anything that could help her. Clawing at the emptiness surrounding them, she soon realized it was useless. Instead, she tried prying his hands off her. In her fruitless attempt, she brushed against something hard in her pocket. Her fingertips went to the familiar piece of metal. Her palm encompassed the tool, anchoring her to reality. One of his hands squeezed her thigh, the other moving to undo his belt buckle.

"No." Frida's voice came out, barely a whisper. _No, no, no._

Once again, the man only grunted. Frida's heart drummed in her chest. A cold sweat broke over her body, her skin feverishly warm on the cold metal piece in her hand. She wanted to stop this. No. She _needed_ to stop this. Her eyelids slammed shut, obscuring her watering eyes. Her hand jerked upwards. The man's body slackened above her. Without missing a beat, Frida thrust all of her weight forward.

Only once had she pushed his body away from her did she dare open her eyes. The man was slumped on the ground. Drips of blood were starting to gather at his hairline. He must have hit his head against the table behind him when he had stumbled backwards. A pool of dark liquid was forming on the floor, the crimson spilling from a wound in his jugular artery, where the screwdriver was plunged at a ninety degree angle.

The blood froze in Frida's veins as the man's eyes stopped twitching.

 _What had she done?_ She hadn't meant for him to die, she had just wanted him to stop.

She couldn't stay in the room with his lifeless figure anymore. A wave of nausea sweeping over her, she turned on her heals and ran away as fast as she could.

She slowed down when her legs started to throb. Looking around, she realized her feet had led her to mecha wing. She walked around aimlessly and tried to clear the mess in her head. The man was dead. Someone would find him. They would find the screwdriver – _her_ screwdriver – and then they would find her. Killing was a crime, no matter what the situation, and she was over eighteen. They would float her.

Frida halted when she heard a voice. Her wandering steps had brought her to an abandoned part of the Ark. The room held what seemed to be all the faulty ship parts that had been replaced long ago. But in the middle, a girl was swearing furiously in an old pod.

As soon as Frida recognized Raven, everything clicked together. She knew Dr. Griffin's daughter had been sent to the ground, along with Raven's boyfriend. The two working together, piecing together an old pod with a pressure regulator, sneaking around authority, it could only mean one thing. They were headed to the ground.

"Come on, come on!" Raven muttered, sweat beading at her brows as she put all her might into fixing a bolt.

A high pitched whistle broke the silence as steam rose into the air. Even to Frida's untrained eyes this looked alarming.

"No! Damn it! She gave us a bad part." Raven cursed, throwing her key across the room, where it clattered to Frida's feet.

"Looking for this?" She taunted, making her presence known as she swung the precious bolt in front of her for Raven to see.

Sha made to grab for it, but Frida hastily kept it out of her the other girl's reach. A couple seconds of intense stare down passed before Raven spoke once more.

"What do you want?" Raven asked, frantically searching Frida's face.

Frida's brows creased, thinking about her options. _This could be the only chance I have_ , Frida pondered. Chances of survival on Earth were pretty slim, but then again, chances of survival after getting floated were literally nonexistent.

"Safe passage to Earth." She requested.

"I can't guarantee it'll be safe." Raven sneered, snatching the bolt from Frida's grasp. "But I won't stop you from coming along on this suicide mission."

As Raven finished fixing the escape pod, Frida settled into the co-pilot seat. _What a joke_ , she thought, _I don't know the first thing about piloting this thing._ She had trouble coming to term with the fact that her life was now resting in Raven's hands. A girl she did not trust in the slightest. Without any idea how to help, Frida fidgeted while waiting for Raven to stop her fiddling.

"What now?" she asked her.

"Now we launch." Raven's voice wavered, not reassuring Frida by a long shot.

Both girls stayed frozen for a moment, the ampler of what they were about to do reflecting in their eyes. Raven took a deep breath and strategically pressed a range of buttons all over the control board. As the sound of an engine started up, Frida attached her safety belt with shaking hands. She squeezed her eyes shut for the second time today, and prayed for the best.

There was a harsh wave of tremors and great deal of shaking before everything settled and Frida opened her eyes. They appeared to be floating in space. The vast immensity of darkness surrounded them, occasionally punctuated with the sparkle of a star. Rotating slightly, Earth came into view.

"You know some people commit suicide using pods like these." She mustered.

"Yeah, but they didn't have the youngest zero-g mechanic in over fifty-two years to help them. I didn't do all this just to die." Raven replied, her jaw set and firm resolution dilating her pupils.

Once again, Raven tinkered with the panel in front of them, and Frida closed her eyes as they began their descent to the ground.

* * *

 **Ok that's it for the second chapter. Hope you guys liked it, and please review/favorite/follow!**


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